


Patience is Kind

by OneofWebs



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Blow Jobs, Face-Fucking, Fantasy Fulfillment, M/M, Marathon Sex, Masturbation, Size Kink, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 01:20:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20073769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneofWebs/pseuds/OneofWebs
Summary: Aziraphale is locked in the bedroom for the day, where Crowley can come and take him whenever he pleases, however he pleases, for as long as he pleases. Aziraphale, of course, is eager to please.





	Patience is Kind

**Author's Note:**

> I pulled a pro-gamer move and didn't edit this for shit, but I think it's alright. I did a quick skim and grammar check so like yeet skeet beat meat am i right.
> 
> 𓆏 i hope you guys enjoy!

Aziraphale leaned his head back into the mound of pillows at the top of the bed and moaned rather prettily for no one in particular. He was alone, naked, and laid out on Crowley’s bed with his fingers down between his thighs, dipping through his folds and spreading the slick mess already there. He was empty, and had been for an entire long, painful hour. But still, he couldn’t stop touching, feeling everything, he was down there. He ghosted over his clit, gasping at the jolt of something that shot up through him. Somewhere between a little painful and overly wonderful—he was sensitive, overly sensitive. He’d been touching for too long, but he didn’t want to forget the feeling that Crowley had left him with that morning.

Crowley had been so generous when he woke Aziraphale with kisses and a hand under his nightshirt—he could recall the memory almost like a movie, it was still so fresh and recent. Crowley had touched him before he’d had anything to touch, rubbing his finger up and down the soft hairless mound between Aziraphale’s thighs. He’d drawn kisses up Aziraphale’s clothed chest until he was at his neck, bare, then to his ear where he tugged on his lobe between sharp teeth. _Oh,_ Aziraphale could feel his breath, even now, where he wasn’t. Crowley had come close enough to whisper dangerously in his ear.

“Give me a cunt, angel,” he’d said, then after a beat: “If you please.” Quietly.

Aziraphale did please; a moment later, Crowley had exactly what he’d asked for, soft, dry, and so full of opportunities. He dug his fingers between the folds while they kissed, hot and heavy and tongues together. Aziraphale moaned into their kiss, rolled his hips up into Crowley’s fingers because he knew that’s what Crowley wanted. The touch was gone all the same; Crowley pulled back. He made quick work of Aziraphale’s night shirt, stripping it off over his head and tossing it off somewhere to the floor. Then, they were kissing again, Crowley straddling over his thighs and grinding against him through the fabric of his pants. Crowley’s hands were over his chest, squeezing and massaging the fat between his fingers. Just touching, idly almost, while they kissed. Aziraphale gasped every so often when Crowley managed to scrape his nipples, but it was becoming clear fast that this was for Crowley—not for him.

If Aziraphale wanted that to stop, he could’ve said something. Instead, he curled his fingers over Crowley’s hands and helped him along. Crowley let out an insatiable little moan and pulled his own hands away, leaving Aziraphale too play at his own nipples while Crowley took an interest elsewhere. He was all sharp nips down Aziraphale’s jaw, down his neck, until he found a particularly nice place to clamp around and suck. Aziraphale’s breath stuttered in response; his hips bucked. He could feel a slickness gathering down between his thighs already, just the beginning.

“I think,” Crowley hissed in his ear, “that this suits you. Naked, in my bed, with nothing to do but wait for me.”

“Crowley—” Aziraphale gasped. Pressed up against him was the very pronounced outline of Crowley’s cock through his pants.

“Let me mind the shop today, hm? You stay here for me? I’ll make sure you’re nice and fucked before I leave.” A dangerous comment whispered directly into his ear. Aziraphale shivered. “And you’ll stay right here while I’m gone and wait for me to return, won’t you?”

Aziraphale brushed over his nipples and let out a whimper, nodding. Crowley rutted against him slower now, rocking his hips while he straightened up to look down at Aziraphale. Aziraphale had gone red nearly down to his chest. He was caught up in just thinking of all the possibilities, wondering if Crowley was serious, too. If he would really leave him here all day like that. He hoped he would—Aziraphale _wanted_ to be left like that.

“Won’t you?” Crowley tried again, meaner this time.

“Yes—yes.” Aziraphale nodded. Crowley had slipped away completely and was now happily between his thighs, grabbing handfuls of skin and spreading him out wide.

“And you’ll think of me, won’t you? After I’m gone?”

Aziraphale nodded and watched carefully as Crowley worked his pants down his hips. It was just enough for him to pull out his prick and stroke himself. Slowly. That Aziraphale could watch every smooth slide and whimper.

“You’ll touch yourself, won’t you? You won’t be able to _resist,_” he said in a sharp hiss. He dipped his fingers between Aziraphale’s folds again, just deep enough to press his fingertips inside to wet them. He spread the slick up and down, pressing over Aziraphale’s clit with his fingernails and causing him to jerk.

“You won’t come though,” Crowley continued in teasing little circles, “not without me. You’re not _allowed_,” he hissed, suddenly very close. He grabbed Aziraphale’s cunt, then, in a sharp handful, a smirk on his face.

“I won’t—I won’t,” Aziraphale promised. “Not until you let me.”

“Maybe I won’t let you.” Crowley pressed a finger inside, then.

Aziraphale—in present time—did the same. He pressed his fingers inside himself and moaned, clenched around them. He could never get the right angle for this, the only unfortunate part about his belly; never quite the way that Crowley could reach inside him with those long, spindly fingers of his. He kept his nails dull just for that, to press as deeply as he could into Aziraphale.

The Crowley then had been slow, meticulous, while he worked his finger in and out. He liked this part best, working Aziraphale open, getting him wet. It was a slow process, usually, but it was remarkable all the same to watch him wake to his arousal. He would jerk and jolt, his whole-body trembling and bouncing with it. Crowley loved to just watch him when he was like this, taking special care with every movement to ensure Aziraphale was helpless to just tremble under his tough. He thumbed over Aziraphale’s clit, then.

“Should I take care of you before I go?” Crowley asked, then made a show out of checking his watch. “We haven’t much time left, dear. You’ll have to decide.”

“Please, Crowley,” Aziraphale barely managed a whisper.

Crowley slipped another finger inside, then, and worked them like a piston. Aziraphale was dripping wet, and the slide was easy now. Every drag inside of him lit a new fire in its wake. Crowley had no right to be as good at this as he was, especially when he was threatening to take it all away and spend the day at the bookshop. Alone. Having left Aziraphale there to fend for himself. The idea sent another shiver through Aziraphale’s spine, his hips working themselves now against Crowley’s fingers. He needed to finish. He needed Crowley to _let_ him finish.

Only Crowley had slowed down to a torturous rub, occasionally brushing his thumb upwards over Aziraphale’s clit. It was never enough to get him over that edge, especially with how _slow_ his fingers were going. This was just an idle touch, no intention anywhere of bringing Aziraphale to climax. It was frustrating, enough that he whined and rolled his hips up. That succeeding in nothing, just that Crowley played over the hood instead of his clit. He was smirking the whole way through, too, and checking his watch.

“I’ll need to leave in about twenty minutes, angel,” Crowley said.

“Crowley—I want to come, please,” Aziraphale managed. Crowley gave him a gentle smile that said something completely different when he leaned down to lick a clean stripe over his cunt.

Aziraphale let out a high-pitched gasp, clutching the sheets underneath him as Crowley licked him entirely again. And again. He used his fingers to press into Aziraphale’s labia, to spread him open and run over the lips while his tongue dipped down between to _taste_ him and lap at him while he dripped. Aziraphale was trembling, clenching his thighs and trying not to squeeze around Crowley’s head. He didn’t want this to stop, and he knew Crowley would take any excuse to pull away. Instead, Crowley’s fingers massaged his labia while his tongue worked inside his opening. Crowley was so close, moving his lips and nudging forward. Aziraphale’s slick had coated his face, dripping down to his chin in a mess as he ate Aziraphale out. His tongue worked deep, his fingers still pressing and squeezing and keeping him wide open.

Warmth had spread up through Aziraphale’s middle, and his hips were rocking down. He couldn’t control the way they moved, but it seemed to only spur Crowley on more. He shifted, suddenly, with Aziraphale’s knees over his shoulders and his arms wrapped over Aziraphale’s thighs to yank him closer, into a better angle. His assault continued, where he pulled back to tongue at Aziraphale’s clit for the way it made him jump and jerk. His shaking was nonstop, all through his body now, and Crowley recognized all the signs.

All at once, he was tongue deep inside Aziraphale with a hand brought over to press and roll his clit. Aziraphale was moaning, trembling, crying out with a sudden gush of slick over Crowley’s lips. Crowley was all tongue a second later, a thick and very human one to fill the space between his folds and lap at his mess. When he got his lips around Aziraphale’s clit and sucked, the crying started all over again when Aziraphale came a second time, immediately, and went limp.

Crowley wiped his mouth as he straightened up, looking over Aziraphale. He looked dazed with his eyes fluttering between open and shut. His hands were still buried in the sheets. His nipples were tight little peeks on his chest and an angry red from his own ministrations. Beautiful, really. All of him. Beautiful enough that there was no way Crowley, as a gentleman, could leave him alone for a second longer. Not when he was already so wet and open. It was an invitation, really, the way his fat thighs were spread wide, and his hips were still twitching.

“Oh, angel,” Crowley crooned. He checked his watch and kept his smile to himself. Fifteen minutes left, still. Aziraphale had come so quickly, and he would do it a third time before Crowley left. He had promised, after all, to leave Aziraphale thoroughly fucked.

Aziraphale’s eyes shot open and he gasped when Crowley’s cock came to rest over his vulva. It was thick and heavy against him, moving subtly with every roll of Crowley’s hips. More importantly, it was _hard_. Aching. Dripping precum onto Aziraphale’s mound and adding to the mess he’d made already. Aziraphale whimpered, biting on the back of his fingers while he watched Crowley. Crowley smoothed his hands over Aziraphale’s stomach and squeezed, massaging the skin while he rocked his hips.

“You didn’t think I’d do something for you without taking for myself, did you?” Crowley said. “You’ll lay there pretty for me, won’t you? I need to finish. It’s only fair.”

Aziraphale gave a shallow nod, tears prickling up in his eyes. Crowley took himself in hand and dragged his cockhead through Aziraphale’s folds. He pressed particularly hard over Aziraphale’s clit before slipping down and right inside him. And he opened right up for Crowley, who didn’t waste a second moment slamming home and taking Aziraphale roughly by the hips. Crowley worked him hard at a pace only a demon could muster and keep, and his grip ensured that Aziraphale couldn’t shy away from it. He was pulled down to meet every thrust, the sound of slapping skin and wetness between them. There was nothing Aziraphale could do but hold onto the pillows and take whatever Crowley gave him, and he gave _a lot._

Crowley groaned with every snap forward of his hips. His nails dug into Aziraphale’s skin, leaving indents and angry red little marks that certainly would stay for a bit. Aziraphale wanted them to stay. He wanted Crowley to stay and keep this up for the rest of the day. Fucking him in earnest, keeping him on this high, but his hips were already beginning to stutter. He’d been holding back.

“Better hurry, angel,” Crowley warned. “If you want to come again, better start thinking about it.”

Aziraphale _was _thinking about it. It was all that he could think about with Crowley working between his thighs. Every thrust forward was hitting just right up against that spot inside of him. Crowley had always known just how to do this, and it was unfair, but Aziraphale was doing anything but complaining. He was working his hips down over Crowley, instead, impaling himself as far down as he could go each time their hips met. He had one hand over his chest, squeezing at his tit and pinching his nipple. His other hand he reached between his thighs with, only to yelp when Crowley slapped it away.

“You _ask_, angel,” he said, breath heavy and punctuated with his effort. “You ask _nicely._”

“Crowley—please. Please, please, let me. _Oh!_—Let me touch myself. I need to. I need to. Can I—?” Aziraphale broke off into a gasp.

Crowley had grabbed his wrist and pinned it above his head, leaning over him and working his hips at this new angle. It didn’t matter now, if Aziraphale was going to be able to touch himself, because he was coming over Crowley’s cock with a loud and stuttered shout. A moment after, Crowley growled when he came.

Aziraphale, in the present, groaned as he pulled his fingers away from himself. Crowley had come inside him, and Aziraphale was helpless to do anything but card through the mess and press it back inside him. He’d been seconds away from coming, thinking about that moment and press into his over-sensitive clit. He’d come back down from that high almost as fast as he’d come to it, which left him uncomfortable and fidgety. He couldn’t find a comfortable place to lay, nor could he find something suitable to think about. Everything was so full of Crowley, except his cunt, which was painfully empty. The only way he could think to distract himself was to roll over onto his side and find a way to sleep.

When he woke, it was just after noon and to a very rough yank that taken him to the edge of the bed. It was Crowley, and he was angry—but he was back, which was the part Aziraphale chose to focus on as his feet hit the cold tiled floor and he was roughly manhandled back down to the bed, on his front and officially bent over the bed. The cold air across his backside left him gasping, but it was Crowley’s hand in a sudden sharp slap that had him clawing into the sheets and trying to get away. Another slap, then another—

“Crowley! Crowley, please!” Aziraphale cried out. Crowley stayed his hand, the moment.

“I come home for a brief lunch break because I thought you might appreciate the company,” Crowley said. “And what do I find? Tell me, angel, what did I find?”

“I—I was sleeping,” Aziraphale croaked out. Another slap sounded out, and Aziraphale cried.

“Yes! You were sleeping. Did I give you permission to sleep?”

“No! You didn’t. I’m so sorry, Crowley. Please, don’t—” he stopped short when Crowley’s hand came down on his rear again, only this time, softly. He dragged his fingernails down over the curve of Aziraphale’s ass cheek before taking a sudden painful grab of the flesh and squeezing. Aziraphale whimpered.

“I suppose you must have come then, did you? Without me?”

Aziraphale shook his head hastily, “I didn’t. I promise, I didn’t. I tried to wait, I tried. I just—I couldn’t stand it without you.”

“Flattery, hm? You think that’s going to work here, angel? You think that’s going to earn you some mercy?” he slapped Aziraphale’s ass again, watching the way it bounced under the force.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Aziraphale broke off into a litany of apologies, and for each one, Crowley’s hand served a bit lighter. Lighter until he was rubbing his hands over Aziraphale’s ass instead, marveling and pinching at the delightfully abused skin, nice and pink. Aziraphale trembled in return, trying to look back over his shoulder and watch what Crowley was doing.

Crowley slipped his fingers down between Aziraphale’s slit then to see just how wet he still was, if at all, and was delighted to find a sopping mess dripping out between his lips. Crowley dragged through it roughly, pulling at the sensitive skin and keeping a careful eye on Aziraphale’s movements. Maybe the story played out in a way, but he didn’t actually want to hurt Aziraphale. He was careful to mind that he didn’t, even when he scraped over Aziraphale’s clit with his fingernails and heard him wail.

“I’ll punish you later,” Crowley said dangerously. “I’ve got to get back to the shop, but I think you owe me a little something before I leave.”

Crowley didn’t bother to share what came next, because Aziraphale knew. His legs were kicked apart, and he was pulled a little farther from the bed to make it easier. Then, Crowley was guiding his cock down between Aziraphale’s folds where he rocked forward, rubbing into the slick and making a mess of himself in the process. Aziraphale was, thankfully, not as sensitive as he had been, but there was still a light burn with every roll forward of Crowley’s hips. Then, his cockhead started to catch, and Aziraphale gripped into the sheets for purchase. He might have said a prayer for it to catch sooner and slip inside, but that was probably something God had no interest in helping with, nor did She need to know what they were doing.

After a good few thrusts, Crowley pressed himself just so that he was finally slipping into that heat, a clean and easy slide that left Aziraphale with nothing ado but tremble. There was a moment he let himself think that it wasn’t just his fluids easing Crowley’s assault, but also Crowley’s leftover spend. He’d tried so diligently to keep it inside him, and now it was leaking down his thighs with every press of Crowley’s cock. Crowley was so good to him, even now, fucking into him like a wild beast—it felt _good._ Crowley made sure it felt good; the angle of his hips was just right that there was no way it wouldn’t feel good. He couldn’t stop himself from moaning, from pressing back into Crowley’s hips when Crowley pressed into him and didn’t pull back. He just rocked his hips, then slapped Aziraphale’s ass again.

“Look at you. Look how bad you want this. It’s sad,” Crowley mocked, pressing his hips forward sharply. Aziraphale gasped and tried to move away, but Crowley held him firmly by the shoulders. “Such a slut,” he hissed.

His thrusts increased, suddenly. Sharp, hard, and fast. Painful, almost, in Crowley’s haste to find pleasure for himself. Aziraphale was nothing but a means to an end, this time. A warm place he could shove his cock for the moment and find release; the very definition of a slut. _His_ slut. Crowley threw his head back and groaned, fucking into Aziraphale until his thighs were aching and his orgasm was shooting through him almost violently. And then, he still didn’t stop. He changed his pace, a slow and steady rock, just to keep Aziraphale interested. And interested he was, because he’d gushed over Crowley’s cock like he was made for it.

“Good, good,” Crowley soothed his hands down Aziraphale’s back. “I knew you could do it. You live for this, don’t you? Pleasing me. It’s all you want to do.”

Aziraphale whimpered in response.

Crowley gave him another harsh slap, “I want to hear you say it.”

“Yes, Crowley,” Aziraphale sighed out, a blissful little look on his face. “I’m yours—I’m your slut,” and he did feel rather foolish for saying so. His face turned red, but when he glanced back at Crowley, Crowley seemed thrown for it. His hips worked again, harder suddenly, and he held Aziraphale by the hips to ensure he stayed in place and took each thrust in kind.

“Say it again,” Crowley demanded.

“I’m yours,” Aziraphale repeated. “Your slut, Crowley, I—I live to please you. I want you to come inside me, leave me wet and open, always.”

“Oh, yes,” Crowley groaned, “that does sound lovely. Make sure you’re always ready for when I want to use you.”

Aziraphale groaned when Crowley pulled back. He heard a snap, after, of Crowley’s fingers before he took time enough to straighten himself back up. Then, he tapped Aziraphale’s rear to get him to move, so he did. He scrambled up onto the bed to lay in the pillows, fully expecting Crowley to crawl in bed after him and continue. But. Crowley looked rather unaffected, a cruel advantage of being a demon. Aziraphale almost had a moment to feel upset about it, except Crowley _did_ kneel onto the bed to present a rather sleek looking plug of sorts. It was thick and long, and it made Aziraphale audibly gasp.

“A good little _slut_,” Crowley hissed, “should be outfitted, don’t you agree?”

Aziraphale nodded.

“But I like to think I’m rather nice,” Crowley said with his teeth. Aziraphale watched somewhere between awe and horror as the sleek little plug Crowley had produced grew and shaped into something far more familiar and. Phallic. Aziraphale didn’t have even a second to respond.

Crowley had one knee between his thighs, keeping them spread, and the dildo—Aziraphale realized—was being pressed inside of him. Aziraphale gripped the sheets for purchase and did try to scramble back, but Crowley held him in place until the dildo was base deep inside of him. Crowley gave it a press or two for good measure before pulling back and watching Aziraphale tense up to keep everything in place. That made Crowley smile, so he leaned forward and pressed a rather chaste little kiss over Aziraphale’s lips.

“I’ll be back after closing,” he said with a wink.

Aziraphale let out a breathy little noise, but he nodded. Crowley waved on his way out the door, and then the lock clicked this time. He would be alone for the next however long Crowley thought he could keep this up. Aziraphale didn’t really think he would run the bookshop until closing, because that was a long time. Six hours, if the clock was to be believed. If Crowley managed, Aziraphale had six hours all to himself to slink down the sheets and dream of what had just happened. He was stuffed full for it, and the dildo shifted deliciously inside him as he slipped farther down the bed. Six hours, and Crowley had left him here with _this_, pressed up all inside him and hitting everything it needed to. If only he could come—he needed it again.

It was all about the more. Aziraphale always wanted more, and his _more_ now was reaching down between his thighs and feeling around the thick base and thinking of Crowley. Crowley and his eyes, that intense stare he gave when he knew something before Aziraphale did. The smirk that went with that. Aziraphale lived for that in the same way he lived to have Crowley on top of him, inside of him, saying those nasty things to him and completely debauching him. There were the slow times, too, when Crowley kissed him and rocked into his body. When they just couldn’t get enough of each other or the touching. Aziraphale loved either. Maybe that was the _slutty_ part of him that Crowley talked about. It didn’t matter _how_ he had Crowley, just that he could have him.

Aziraphale arched his back when he pressed the dildo back in. He could hear the squelch as it pressed through the fluids still inside him. He was so full, and Crowley would come back and fill him _more._ He just had to wait. He just had to make it. With thoughts of Crowley filling him _alongside_ the dildo, he surely wouldn’t make it. What a punishment he’d receive if he managed to come while Crowley was away, and that wouldn’t do for him. He groaned and rolled onto his front where he could bury his face in the pillows and try desperately to think of something else. Only, that hadn’t helped. In his new position, his nipples brushed into the silken sheets tortuously well, sensitive as they were. Even the angle was better; he couldn’t resist the temptation to reach down between his thighs and tug on the dildo again. The devious little squelch it made as it moved left Aziraphale dazed.

If Crowley wanted him to be a slut, then he was going to do everything in his power to please. He would wait for Crowley to return, hopefully a little earlier than expected, and do anything that was asked of him. Until then, he wouldn’t come. He wouldn’t even think about it. All he had to do was enough to keep himself interested, and he was _very_ interested right now. The sheets were so soft, the dildo just large enough. If he wasn’t dripping down his own thighs by the time Crowley came home, he wasn’t a particularly good slut. And that wouldn’t fly.

Crowley did come home sooner than Aziraphale expected, but only by half an hour. Something was entirely off, though. He walked into the bedroom with a book in his hand, a book which he was actively reading. Worse, he seemed entirely uninterested in the sight on the bed, where Aziraphale was up on his knees, pressed into the pillows, and positively leaking all around the dildo still shoved up inside him. His thighs were sticky and wet, the bed in no good state for it, and his skin was a pleasant flush. Crowley didn’t so much as look up when he turned the page. He just sat down on the bed, propped up against the headboard, and folded his ankles.

There was a long moment where Aziraphale just looked at him, panting and eyes blown wide. This was unbelievable. Crowley _couldn__’t_ just not be interested in another round. That wasn’t fair—Aziraphale had been so good. He hadn’t come once while Crowley was gone. Though he had made quite a mess of himself, he’d been _good_. When his legs finally gave out, he dropped beside Crowley and whined. Then, and only then, Crowley had the audacity to hold a finger to his lips in a motion that told Aziraphale to be _quiet._ Aziraphale gripped into the sheets and whimpered, for good measure.

Crowley just turned a page.

What felt like an hour had only been ten minutes, but Aziraphale was squirming. He needed to be touched, to be fucked into the bed. He’d been waiting for so long for Crowley to give that to him, and even though he could see the straining prick in his pants, Crowley was doing nothing. He was _reading_. Crowley didn’t read. He was adamant about that. All of it had to be a game he was playing. He was just flipping pages to see how long Aziraphale could last, and Aziraphale’s clock was ticking.

“Crowley—” Aziraphale gasped. He’d pressed one of his hands back down between his thighs where he pressed into his clit.

“Shush, angel. I’m trying to read,” Crowley said. He didn’t even look away from the book.

“Please, Crowley. I need you—” when Aziraphale reached out with his other hand to press into Crowley’s crotch, he was met with a resounding slap to the back of his hand. He yelped and pulled away.

“You need what I give you,” Crowley told him. “So, what you’ll do is sit there quietly, like I’ve asked, and be a good boy. Can you manage that?”

Aziraphale gave a defeated nod. All he had to do was say their word if he didn’t like this, but he was curious to see where it would go. So, he did exactly as Crowley asked. After he’d found a comfortable position so sit in, near Crowley, he just sat there. No touching, no whining, just an uncomfortable shift of his hips.

Crowley turned the page and rewarded him not three minutes later, when he slid a hand down over the bump of his stomach. He grabbed at Aziraphale’s cunt, a rough and commanding sort of thing that made Aziraphale move exactly where he wanted him, so the reach would be easy. Then he slipped his fingers down between Aziraphale’s folds and rubbed over his labia, around the base of the dildo. Aziraphale shuddered. He curled his hands up by his mouth to keep quiet, as Crowley had asked.

Crowley’s fingers moved slowly and teasingly, pressing into every inch of sensitive skin they could find. He brushed over Aziraphale’s clit, just to watch the way his hips jerked at the touch, but mostly played around the dildo. He was impressed with Aziraphale’s dedication, he really was. Thought that he even might have deserved more for his trouble; Aziraphale _loved_ getting more. He loved being taken and taken again until he was so sensitive that even a touch would bring him over the edge again and to tears. Crowley loved, more so, doing that for him. It was only fair, after all, for how well behaved he’d been. When Crowley pressed the tip of his finger inside, along with the dildo, Aziraphale nearly came right there. His hips worked up, trying to get _more_ of that, but Crowley pulled back almost as soon as it had happened.

Aziraphale’s thighs were trembling, and he was holding back. Every brush of Crowley’s fingers over his clit, now, brought him one inch closer to climax—but he hadn’t been told. He couldn’t, he _couldn__’t_. Crowley might get mad, and then—but _oh_. It felt so good. There was a warmth pooling around in his pelvis, worming its way up and sending his whole body into a pleasant little heat. There was no way he was going to hold on, not for much longer. Not with the teasing little petulant little circles Crowley was rubbing into him, teasing down, down, until he pressed into the dildo. Aziraphale came, then, in a full body tremble that left him weak and whimpering. He’d practically gushed around the dildo, and Crowley took his hand off.

“Now,” Crowley set aside his book with a wicket smirk on his lips, “I think you’ve had enough fun, don’t you?”

Aziraphale nodded. It seemed the thing to do, even if he was certainly ready for Crowley to do more to him. He watched with a sudden hunger as Crowley undid his trousers and pulled out his straining cock. That had clearly done as much for Crowley as it had done for Aziraphale, because then Crowley was grabbing Aziraphale by his hair and pulling him down. Aziraphale hesitated once he was eye level with Crowley’s prick. He hadn’t been told to do anything, but his mouth was watering just at the sight. Crowley always indulged him a little when it came to things like this and made sure he was thick and heavy. Probably more than a normal human, but Aziraphale wasn’t here for a normal human’s cock. He could get that anywhere. He wanted _this._

“Go on, angel,” Crowley urged. “You’ve earned it.”

Aziraphale looked up when he leaned forward with a tentative lick, keeping eye contact with Crowley. He liked knowing that he was making Crowley feel good. He could see it in the ways his face would scrunch, or his eyes would fall tightly closed. Aziraphale lived for it, and it felt as good as anything Crowley could do to him. Especially when he dove straight for it, like he did now. He’d licked over the whole of Crowley’s cock once before he took it to the back of his throat and swallowed. Crowley’s hips bucked in response, and his grip tightened on Aziraphale’s hair.

There was no reason to _hold_ Aziraphale there—he would stay on his own with hallowed out cheeks and sucking. But Crowley _liked _to hold him there. Aziraphale squirmed and felt the perfect time to bring back his gag reflex. When he choked, Crowley pulled him back. Then pushed him back down over his cock and held him there just a little longer, reveling in the hot feeling of his throat. He was drooling over Crowley’s prick with his jaw slack, following where Crowley dragged him until Crowley had had enough of that. Then, Aziraphale took careful attention to the head of his prick. He sucked around it, tonguing just under the head and along the thick vein. Into the slit, too, because that in particular always made Crowley’s head fall back.

Aziraphale worked himself up and down Crowley’s cock, his tongue always doing something dastardly while he did. He had never been particularly _good_ at this, but he was always enthusiastic. There was drool, and he moaned to himself as he worked. Crowley smoothed a hand down his back, then. That enthusiasm was something; he was having difficulty keeping himself composed, keeping his hips still. He would come if he wasn’t careful, and he had something particular in mind. He took a heavy handful of Aziraphale’s ass, digging his nails into the fat before pulling back and slapping it. It always jiggled so enticingly, and Crowley knew from experience that Aziraphale _loved_ to be spanked. He’d come from it, if so pressed.

“Up,” Crowley commanded, and Aziraphale came up with a pop.

“I’m sorry—”

“Nonsense,” Crowley stopped him. He helped Aziraphale up into his lap. “You did well, but I’d much rather prefer to come in this loose little cunt of yours,” he hissed, making his intention clear when he grabbed Aziraphale’s mound and dug his fingers into his folds. Aziraphale jolted. He had to lean onto Crowley’s shoulders for support, but the sounds he made were so pretty.

“You’d prefer that too, wouldn’t you? Always such a slut,” another hiss. He was losing himself.

“Yes, yes. I’m your slut.”

Crowley hummed and pressed his face into Aziraphale’s neck to kiss at him, bite at him, while he worked the dildo out. It came in an easy glide, followed by more of Aziraphale’s slick. Crowley tossed it to the side and took himself in hand. He kept a tight hold on Aziraphale so he couldn’t immediately impale himself. Crowley rubbed the head of his cock between Aziraphale’s folds instead, teasing over his opening. Every touch felt straight like fire, and Aziraphale needed _more_ of it. His hips were moving on their own, trying to find their way down. Crowley had quite the idea, then, and leaned back into the pillows.

“Go for it, angel,” he said. “If you want it so bad, take it.”

Aziraphale looked at him.

“It’s all you,” Crowley smirked. He folded his arms behind his head and just. Watched.

Aziraphale was red down to his chest, but he wasn’t going to lose out on what Crowley was offering him. He stroked over Crowley’s cock once, twice to spread his own slick down the shaft, then shifted properly. In one drop, he’d taken Crowley to the hilt and was sitting directly in his lap. He let out a moan, gripping into Crowley’s shoulders while he—he came, again, and found it hard to even open his eyes after that. Crowley seemed to _somehow_ grow bigger inside him, he could feel it. Every centimeter, every twitch. His mouth fell open while he tried to compose himself.

Crowley gave the smallest of thrusts up to get him started, and then Aziraphale was rocking his hips. Rolling them, shifting, anything he could do to get it just right. Crowley was impossible, filling him up in all the ways that no one else had ever been able to. He was pressed right up against the spot inside of him, and Aziraphale didn’t think he’d last much longer. He could barely hold his own weight, and every time he dropped back down over Crowley’s cock, he had to brace himself on Crowley’s middle. It felt too good—he couldn’t stop. He didn’t _want_ to stop, but it was hard. His thighs were trembling, his knees hurt. It was such an effort to even move that, before he’d even realized, he was crying.

“Crowley—Crowley,” he gripped into his neck and tried to lean into him, but Crowley didn’t reciprocate. “Please—I can’t do this. I can’t do it, I need help. I need you—fuck me, Crowley. Please, my dear, fuck me—”

Aziraphale gasped as he was suddenly flipped onto his back. Crowley’s pace was maddening, erratic. His eyes were blown wide with lust, and he finally, _finally_ gave Aziraphale what he needed. A hot and heavy kiss, tongue tracing the insides of his mouth while he fucked him with earnest. Aziraphale was whining, gripping into the fabric of the sheets to ground himself. Crowley didn’t relent, and every thrust was just as hard and just as heavy, in some machine-like endurance.

All Aziraphale could manage to say was Crowley’s name, done up in a litany of how _good_ this felt, how wonderful he was doing. And Crowley, in return, kept his mouth on Aziraphale’s skin, and his cock working hard inside of him. He put all the strength he had into it, until Aziraphale was coming again in a gush of hot fluids, and once more when Crowley finally finished with a long drawn out groan of his name. He stayed like that for a moment, his hips uselessly bucking forward until he’d finished. When he finally pulled out, he flopped down to the bed and sucked in a heavy breath.

“Are you alright, angel?”

When Aziraphale didn’t respond, Crowley propped himself up on his elbows to look at him. His eyes were drooped, a blissed out little smile on his lips. Overall, though, he looked exhausted. He barely responded when Crowley ran his fingers down the side of his face and kissed his forehead.

“I was going to ask how you’d like clean up tonight, but I think I know the answer,” and Crowley snapped his fingers for good measure. Suddenly, it was like nothing had happened. The only evidence was found in Aziraphale’s nakedness, and that Crowley had shed his clothes as well.

Crowley laid back into the pillows and welcomed Aziraphale up into his arms, where his head was tucked up under Crowley’s chin with Crowley’s arms wrapped tight around him. It was warm, under the blankets, and certainly felt _safe._ The safety was the important part. Everything else was secondary, because it didn’t match to the feeling that cuddling gave Aziraphale. Safety, happy, and he could feel Crowley kissing into his hair.

“Was that alright?” Crowley asked.

“More than,” Aziraphale muttered. He was pressed just about as close to Crowley as he could be. “It was everything I’d imagined.”

“You feel good, did you?”

“Could you not tell from the orgasms I had, dear?” Aziraphale laughed. He could almost see the way Crowley’s face flushed a deep red at the comment, because of course. But.

“I just like to hear you say it.”

“In that case,” Aziraphale shifted up so he could kiss Crowley’s cheek. “You were wonderful. I feel amazing.”

Crowley nodded.

“Did you enjoy it?”

“I did. I always do. You’re always so good for me, angel.”

Aziraphale smiled and settled back down on Crowley’s chest. He thought a moment that he might ask if Crowley had actually been reading that book, which seemed to not really exist at the moment. But that seemed rather inappropriate for their situation. Instead, he just closed his eyes and let Crowley gently soothe his back until he’d finally fallen asleep.

**Author's Note:**

>   
𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏  
  
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